Like a Book
by Alira Maxwell
Summary: Reid & the BAU are on a case trying to pin a profile on an Unsub that constantly changes his mo and leaves a signature of bloody hand prints at every scene. Just when he starts to give up on pinning this unsub with a profile, he meets an alternative girl with a strange love of books who helps nudge him in the right direction. What happens when she becomes the unsub's next target?
1. Chapter 1

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances; if there is any reaction, both are transformed." – Carl Jung

Spencer walked over to a table in the café and settled down into the chair; setting down his cup and laptop. His long lanky legs crouched uncomfortably under the small round table. He had been wound tight with this latest Unsub and thought that a change of scenery and prospective would help nail a profile on this guy.

He opened his laptop and brought up what they already had. There had been a series of murders, right here in Virginia, a large male between the ages of twenty and forty who had been targeting women in their twenties. He looked over some of his notes.

"It doesn't make sense." He talked to himself, something he rarely did because his mind worked so well. But he was smart enough to know that sometimes hearing something out loud will often give you a different reaction than just thinking it; and often that talking to yourself helped string together thoughts, even if it was completely ridiculous.

"Same age and sex victims, but race and m.o. change…" Spencer scrolled through the victimology notes he had made, running his hand through his hair in deep thought. "No connection, just random murders… First stabbing, then shooting, then torture… Unsubs don't usually change their m.o.s unless they have to… So what is this guy doing?"

"Maybe he's just trying to find his niche." A female voice spoke to him. Spencer looked up from his computer and around the café filled with young adults. He turned in his chair to look behind him where in the nook in the corner, sat a woman in an arm chair.

His eyebrows crunched together as his mind raced to understand her. The young woman was close to his age, curvy, but not heavy. She wasn't as fit as the girls he worked with, toned with muscle, but soft skinned and curvy, average. But she wasn't average, she had colored hair and had a handful of tattoos scattered over her skin. "What makes you say that?" he asked her as he studied her.

She smiled, leaning her elbows forward on her crossed legs. "Why else would someone keep changing what they do? Unless it's not really the same guy?"

Spencer glanced back at his computer. It was definitely the same Unsub for each murder. They couldn't release the information but there was a signature left at each one of the crime scenes. A bloody print of the victim's hands on the walls, spayed out flat and thumbs pressed together, in the shape of a W.

"I know," he heard her voice speaking to him, "you're thinking, 'What's this weird girl doing talking to a normal guy like me?' Right?"

Spencer's eyes snapped over to her, and he found himself in a bit of surprise. "You think I'm normal?"

The girl suppressed a giggle, which made the corners of Spencer's lips tilt up slightly, "Have you seen you?"

Spencer looked down at himself; button up, sweater vest and tie, looking as he usually did. His eyes drifted over to the girl again. "You say that because of your outward appearance, which usually correlates to seeking attention. Most people get tattoos and color their hair because they want people to see them, to look at them."

Her eyebrows slowly rose as she listened to him dissect her and who he thought she was. "Is that so?" she asked. "You do that to everyone you meet?"

Spencer flushed a little and turned back to his computer, tearing away from her gaze.

"They aren't for other people." She said, drawing his attention back. His eyes followed as she gestured to her tattoos. "They mean things for me. Not for other people. They mean hope, destiny, belief; every one of them is personal to me. I actually get a bit of anxiety when people try to look at them or read them."

"Then why have them at all?" Spencer questioned again. She smiled and shook her head.

"Are you writing a book or something?" The girl asked.

"Something like that…" Spencer answered quietly and took an awkward glance back to his computer. When he turned back to her, he had another question. "How do you know about what the Unsub is thinking?"

"Unsub?" she asked, thoroughly confused.

Spencer cleared his throat and turned to face her. "Unknown Subject. The murderer. Do you read profiling books?"

The girl smiled and held up a book, "Crime fiction."

Spencer's eyes looked down at the book she had been holding in her lap. The spine was broken again and again and the pages were ruffled at the edges through years of wear.

"I read. A lot..." she said with a smile. "I write a bit too. Crime fiction, scary movies and documentaries, even stay up reading about serial killers on Wikipedia sometimes."

Spencer's eyebrow crooked up, "You're a serial killer groupie?"

She stifled another laugh, "Is that what you wanna call me? I feel like I should be offended."

Spencer blushed a light pink and turned his face away, "Sorry." He glanced up at her again, and she couldn't help but smile at his cute boyish looks. The way his hair fell around his face, or how he pulled his lips in his mouth when he was nervous, like he did now.

"That's okay," she said softly, "It doesn't matter what you think of me as, or if I tell you I like studying murders. Because after we leave this café ,I'm never going to see you again."

"I want to see you again." The words ran out of Spencer's mouth faster than he had even realized he had thought them, surprising himself as much as he did her. When he finally composed himself he looked up to meet her wide eyes.

A slow smile spread across her lips, and she reached a hand out to him. "I'm Harper."

Spencer looked down at her hand and back up to her. Sure, there were all sorts of germs and stuff from shaking a hand, and usually Spencer thought twice about it. But not right now. He stuck out his hand and grasped hers for a hand shake. His hand was warm, and his long slender fingers wrapped around her hand softly. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." He said, and then quickly stuttered over his words, "I mean, you don't have to call me Doctor, just, I'm just Spencer."

Harper smiled brightly at his light blush and cute fumbling of words. "It's nice to meet you, Spencer." She was a bit surprised by someone so young carrying the title of Doctor, but it didn't bother her. He was very smart, she could tell, and his professor-like dress style and the glasses that sat in a case on his table were nothing but appealing. There was always something attractive about nerdy guys, and she didn't even mind any of the judgements he made about her.

Harper pulled away from him and pulled up her backpack, shoving her book inside and looting around for a pen and paper.

Spencer watched as she scrambled in her bag and scribbled something down onto a pad before ripping the page over and folding it over. His eyes followed her as she stood up and took a few steps over to him. She held the paper out to him with a smile. His lips tilted upwards in a grin and she couldn't help but notice the warm feeling in her stomach.

His slender fingers hook around the paper and he took it from her grasp. She gave him one last smile, and he watched as she turned and walked away, out of the café. He looked down at the paper and flipped it open. He pulled his lips into his mouth nervously before breaking into a smile at the digits on the page.


	2. Chapter 2

"Probably some of the best things that have ever happened to you in life, happened because you said yes to something. Otherwise things just sort of stay the same." –Danny Wallace

Spencer sat in the round table room looking over the reports of the most recent kill, while Hotch and Morgan talked over something at the board, and Rossi and Emily were both pouring over their own reports. Something had been bothering Spencer, deeply, about this case. Something was nagging him in the back of his head that there was something he was just not seeing.

He hunched over his folders upon folders of files, papers spread across his place at the table like wildfire. He didn't understand why the team all upgraded to tablets. It was difficult to compare all the information right next to each other on a screen.

Hotch and Morgan's voices were a blur in the background of his mind; his eyes scanned over and over the documents filled out by the police, detectives, and his team. He used a long thin finger to slide his glasses up his nose when they started to fall. He was beginning to feel like it was futile, sitting around hovering over paperwork when he noticed he was missing a file.

He sat back in his chair and leaned over to his satchel on the floor. He opened the bag and started shifting through papers, when a small folded paper fell out. He reached down to grab it when he hesitated. Harper.

Ever since he met her at the café yesterday his mind had been racing. Something she had said to him struck a nerve. There was very clearly something he needed to understand in her words, but he just could not pick it out.

His fingers wrapped around the paper and he made the motion to place it back in his satchel, but not before flipping it open with his knuckle and glancing at the numbers. He found himself doing this every time he went in his bag for something and it made a small quirk appear in his lips every time.

He reached for the file he was looking for when he froze. That was the piece he was missing. Moving swiftly, and causing Morgan and Hotch to stop what they were doing to look over at him, he flattened the coroner's report onto the table and sifted through the papers until he found what he was looking for.

His fingers skimmed down the middle of the page, reading entire sentences at once until he had it all in his head. "That's it." he exclaimed, and looked up at his teammates, "That's what we have been missing."

"Did you get something, Reid?" Morgan asked his friend.

Spencer scooted out from his chair and stood, clearing the room over to the board in a matter of a few strides with his long legs. He reached up and tapped on the photos of the latest victim, the stabbing.

"I know we keep saying that this is an organized killer, but what's been bothering me is though he is very organized, he seems to go into a frenzy." He tapped his fingers onto the multiple stabbings once more as he pulled every bit of his teammates attention. Rossi and Emily had looked up from their reports to listen in as well.

"This usually happens when there is a personal connection, but there isn't one. At first we recognized this as over kill. After examining the coroner reports again I'm not sure." He turned to the board and looked closer at the photos. "The stab wounds are all the same depth, meaning that he was in control the entire time. Every one of the 47 stab wounds were all done very meticulously. With all these different types of kills I thought he was still trying to figure out what he enjoyed as a killer, we've seen that before, but if that was the case there would be a learning curve or pattern in each one, advancing it further rather than being completely different."

Spencer turned back to face his team, "I believe this unsub may be reenacting something. He is creating a scene he has seen before in a horror movie, a book, or another killer. That's why it has to be so perfect."

Hotch's eyebrows went down, and the serious expression that came to his face whenever he is processing new information appeared. "Good work, Reid." he said and pressed the intercom on the table, "Garcia?"

"Yes, my doves?" Penelope's voice chimed out from the speaker box.

"I need you to look into every kill that has ever been similar to any of the crime scenes. Not as a whole, but individually. I want you to cross reference them with killers, movies, and books; this unsub has seen these scenes before. Leave out the W, that's his signature, it's unique to him and wouldn't have appeared anywhere else."

"That may take some time," Penelope said suggestively, "Do you have any parameters to narrow it down?"

"Start with killers and then move onto horror and crime movies." Hotch said.

"You'll hear from me when I have something!" Penelope said and the speaker clicked off without a goodbye.

Hotch nodded to his team, "I think we are ready to give the profile." He said, and moved towards the door.

Morgan walked up to Spencer and tapped him on the shoulder, "Good job, pretty boy."

"Thanks," Spencer said softly with a lip tilt upwards. The rest of the team, with Spencer, followed Hotch out to give the profile to the local police.

"We are looking for a male, between the age of 30 and 40," Hotch explained as the police force sat around taking notes, "He has a job that he does not get praise for, and feels overpowered by women who control his life."

Morgan cut in to explain the fact further, "He may be in a relationship where he feels under appreciated. But that does not make him weak; this man has no problem overpowering his victims. This guy is organized, he knows exactly what he is doing and not matter what it looks like. He is not out of control for a minute."

"He prefers to use blitz attacks on women," Hotch picked back up, "this indicates he may lack confidence, or may be unattractive. This man has something to prove and only feels in control when he is killing."

Finally, Spencer brought to the table the last piece, "It's possible we are looking at a man who enjoys watching or reading things about killing. He likes the feeling of power that he interprets the killers having when he sees these things. This may be horror movies, crime books, anything of the like. He may be trying to recreate perfect scenes of things he reads or watches."

Hotch nodded to them, "Everyone should be safe, be on the look out for those around you. Someone knows who this man is. It's only a matter of time before he kills again. Thank you."

Hotch then dismissed everyone, and reconvened with the team. Surprisingly, because they had been over the files over and over with no development, Hotch told everyone that they could go home.

"Unfortunately, we are going to have to wait for Garcia to finish this list," he took a pause and looked around, "or for the unsub to make a mistake… which means killing again."

"The rest period between these killings have been completely random," Emily said, "There is no telling when he may kill again. There has been no acceleration, and the time between kills vary."

Hotch took a deep breath, "So let's hope we get something to work with soon. Until then, I want you to clear your heads and regroup."

Everyone nodded heads and made agreeing noises and began to disburse. Spencer walked over and grabbed his bag from where he deposited it. He was feeling very proud and content at the contribution he made. Though without his little run in yesterday, he may have not made the connection. This little bolster in his attitude gave him the push he needed to slip his hand into his bag and pull out the folded paper with intent on actually using it.

He made his way out of the station and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing as he walked. He held the phone to his ear as he heard the ringing. It was very odd for him to be in this position, as he rarely actually called any of the numbers he had gotten. Though most of them were from prostitutes they questioned, cougars, or drunken girls from the bars he would go to with the team when they had time off.

He was so deep in his head that he jumped when the phone clicked to life.

"Hello?"

"Uh-" Spencer stumbled over his words, as if he forgot what to say next. "Harper?"

"Last I checked." She replied with a smile in her voice, which made Spencer's lips tug.

He walked down the sidewalk in silence, just listening to the sound of her existence on the other side of the line.

"Just checking to see if I'm me?" Harper responded when he didn't speak for several moments.

"Oh!" Spencer exclaimed, "N-No. Well, I mean, yes, actually.. I…"

He began to stumble over his words as he did whenever he was nervous, so he took a breath and cleared his throat, "It's Spencer."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, "Huh!" she exclaimed in a huff of disbelief, "I never thought I'd hear from you again."

"Why?" he asked with voice reflecting just how ludicrous he thought the statement was.

"I mean really, Spencer," she said, the smile back in her voice, "guys like you don't associate with girls like me."

"I associated." He quipped back, in a fit of defense.

Harper chuckled, "So, what can I do ya for, Doctor?"

The phrasing of her question had him pausing and stumbling on his words again.

"I-I wanted to see if," he paused, "If you wanted to grab a cup of coffee with me? I have the afternoon off, and I enjoyed talking with you."

Another bit of silence. Spencer thought, with a hint of amusement, that for such a long call log on his phone they sure weren't talking very much. "I'm actually at The Book Nook right now."

"Oh?" He was surprised. The Book Nook was the café he met her at just yesterday. It was a coffee shop / bookstore, with the bottom level being a café with a few shelves littered about, and the second floor was completely book shelves. This was one of his favorite places to go, and after hearing that she had been there two days in a row it made him wonder if it was one of her frequented places too. If so, why had he never seen her there before? Granted, he would always grab his cup and head upstairs and try to find one of the small nooks hidden away in the bookshelves where he could sit and read quietly. He hid himself away, so it was possible she was around often and he never noticed.

"Can I join you?" Spencer asked.

"Sure." Harper replied. "I'll save your number and you can message me when you are here?"

"Sure." Spencer said, "I'll see you soon."

"Okay." She replied quietly. Spencer looked over at his phone as if he was trying to read her face from the other side of the line. He hung up and made his way down to The Book Nook. It didn't take long for him to get there.

He walked inside, taking a look around. There were a few people scattered around, but he didn't see Harper. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up her number. He sent a quick text over.

'I'm here.'

He looked around again, before taking another glance at his phone. He wondered if he should go ahead and order, and was about to move towards the counter when his phone went off. He looked down at his phone and clicked open the message.

'Upstairs. 813/.54 20"

Spencer drew a shaky breath, as he felt a rush of warm tingles run from his stomach up to his chest. He pulled his lips into his mouth to chew. He glanced up at the stairs and slid his phone into his pocket before making his way up to the second level.

Harper was standing in front of a shelf skimming her fingers along the titles of the books. It had been less than two minutes since she texted Spencer when he turned the corner and walked down the aisle. Her eyebrows went up and the corners of her lips tilted up.

"Well, Doctor," she said with a smile, "I'm surprised you were able to find me so quickly."

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he chewed on his lips again at his title, "That was the first time someone has ever used the Dewey Decimal System to give me their location before. I've gotta say, that was pretty appealing."

A bright smile spread across Harper's face and she glanced down at the floor. "I'll take that compliment."

Spencer's lips tilted up on one side. His eyes shot down to her hands. "You don't have the book?"

Harper looked up at him and smiled. Her hand raised up slowly and using a poking motion to draw his attention up to the highest shelf. "Can't reach. Do you mind, Doc?"

Spencer nodded and stepped forward as she moved back. He faced the shelf and eyes scanned upwards when he located the title. He reached up and pulled the novel from its place snug between two other books with his slender fingers.

He glanced at the title, feeling weary, before handing the book over to her. "You'll be surprised at this one." He said when she took the book from him.

Once again, her eyebrows went up and her lips tilted into a surprised smile. "You've read this?"

This time it was Spencer's turn to look surprised. "You already know how it ends?"

Harper smiled and nodded, "Yeah, Fight Club is, like, my second favorite book of all time. I'm a bit surprised you've read it though. It doesn't seem your style at all."

"I've read almost every popular story about forms of schizophrenia." Spencer explained, tapping his fingers together.

Harper looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, "Personal preference, or…?"

"What's your favorite book?" Spencer cut her off, skipping the subject entirely.

She picked up on his discomfort and looked down at the cover again, tucking the book under her arm, "Psycho." She said quietly, looking down at the ground as if what she said embarrassed her. "I really wish I was able to read the book before I knew the ending. I mean, it's brilliant! But everyone knows about Norman Bates."

Spencer felt himself smiling, and the way her face lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about was endearing; but she seemed shy, and she didn't look up at him the entire time. Finally she looked up at him with a soft smile on her face, "I guess I have a thing for twist endings… People just not who they seem to be."

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, "Why would you buy a book you have already read?"

Spencer knew he had books that he bought that he has read before, to keep physical copies of his favorites. But in this day and age he didn't know anyone else with the practice, and the book he saw Harper with the other day, with the spine broken over and over, gave the impression that she read them multiple times.

"Haven't you read the same book more than once?" Harper asked him, as if she read his mind.

"Actually, I have an eidetic memory;" Spencer explained, "I remember everything I have ever read, so there's no need for me to read it more than once. I also have an IQ of 187, and can read 20,000 words per minute; so it's very rare that I go back to read something I already know rather than moving on to the next book with new information."

Harper watched him with wide eyes, and Spencer chewed on his lips nervously. He went on a tangent again and explained his genius to her, so this was the part when she would become impressed with him, and ask him all sorts of weird questions, or feel doubt in herself because his boast made her feel bad.

As much as Spencer enjoyed telling people about how he was a child prodigy and a doctor and a genius, he often is in such a rush to tell people he forgets that it sounds pretentious. Just as he expected, her eyebrows crinkled together and her lips to tilt down. He waited for her to start to pull away from him as if she wasn't good enough to be in his presence.

"I feel sorry for you." She said softly, looking up into his eyes.

His eyebrows shot up in a slap of surprise. Was that pity?

"What?" he asked her, trying to make sure he heard her right.

"Being able to read a book, and then forget it…" Harper said quietly, her face lighting up like it did before when she was talking about something she loved, "Reading it again, and being able to relive that adventure over and over again? God, I wouldn't change that feeling for the world."

Spencer felt that warm tingly sensation in his chest again, as he wished he could feel the emotions that Harper was describing. No one ever felt bad for him for being smart before. Then again, no one had quite the same mannerisms as Harper.

They stood quietly for several moments, just kind of observing each other. Finally Spencer glanced down at her hands, "I notice you don't have a drink, how about that coffee now?"

Harper smiled and nodded, "Yeah, sure, let me get my bag." She said and turned to walk down the aisle.

"I'll get it." Spencer insisted and reached down for his satchel while taking a few steps away, "How do you like yours?"

Harper paused and looked up at him, before a smile spread across her lips, "I don't drink coffee, actually. Iced green tea? Please?"

Spencer smiled and nodded, and his lips opened involuntarily, "Did you know that iced tea wasn't commonly around until 1094 at the St. Louis World Fair. A man name Richard Blechynden was vending it at the fair. It was too hot for regular tea, so he poured it over ice so it would sell better. And though Richard Blechynden was accredited to inventing it, there is actually mentions of iced tea in recipes going back to 1877."

Harper's smile slid slowly bigger as he spoke, rambling off a random fact while he moved his hands and fingers around during his explanation. When he finally concluded, he looked down at her, gauging her reaction to his rant. "Sorry…"

She smiled at him again, and glanced down, biting on her lip, "It's okay."

Spencer jammed his thumb backwards towards the other end of the aisle. "I'm going to go order."

Harper nodded and pointed back to the way she was heading, "I'm down at the table back here. Just follow the aisle and take a left. The one by the window."

Spencer nodded. He knew the one; he sat there several times when he wanted to be closed off from everyone else. It was taken when he came here the other day, so he ended up sitting at a table down by the café. He wanted the privacy so he could sort his thoughts in peace, but ended up having to do it out in the open. Which resulted in a peculiar encounter.

He walked down the aisle, but turned to take a glance back. He turned in time to see Harper moving around the corner, as she turned she glanced up and caught his eyes. She delivered a soft smile before disappearing behind the bookshelf.

Harper walked over to the table where she stashed away from the public. She slid into the bay window next to the table and looked outside. She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. She somehow found the strange doctor alluring, and the way he just spouted off facts was adorable.

She never thought she would find herself in such a position. Most people seemed to pull away from interacting with someone who looked like her. To normal guys, she was a novelty, a way of saying 'look how I can get the weird girl.' But there was something else going on here, and she found it rather interesting.

Something was not all right when it came to Doctor Spencer Reid, she could tell. There was something weird about him too. So here they were, two strange people trying to feel each other out. Harper was really enjoying the experience, and hoped that Spencer was too.

He was back sooner than expected, sliding into the chair near the table and sitting her cup down in front of her. Harper smiled at him in a greeting of his return. She thanked him for the tea and brought it to her lips.

"So, Harper," Spencer started, taking a long drink of his coffee, "What do you do for a living?"

Harper set her cup down on the table and pulled her legs up so she was sitting cross legged on the bay window. Spencer watched the motion happen before reverting his attention to her face. "I'm a student, at the moment, but I have several odd jobs online to keep up my apartment."

Spencer's brows crinkled slightly, and Harper smiled softly. "I know, I should be out of college by now, but I wanted to go back and take a few new courses."

Spencer realized that she mistook his confused look, "O-oh. No. I was wondering about your online jobs?" he stumbled on his words, and cleared his throat before continuing, "I've been back to school several times to complete different courses and acquire new PHDs."

Harper's smile tugged at her lips and once again Spencer felt embarrassed for bringing up his intellect. "I do a lot of data entry, form management, email campaigning, creating contracts… Anything that involves typing, writing; I also beta-read some things."

"You get paid to read?" Spencer exclaimed, a vast amount of surprise and disbelief, and maybe a hint of envy to his voice.

Harper laughed and nodded, "Yeah, I do. I don't get a lot of job offers in the real world looking the way I do. So, unless it takes place behind a screen with minimal interaction with people, they don't want to pay me for it."

"That…Is a really cool job." Spencer said, stretching his legs out underneath the small table. "I feel like anyone should be able to work, as long as they are good at what they do…"

Harper nodded, picking her cup up and taking a drink from it, "I agree."

"What are you studying at school?" Spencer asked. Harper opened her mouth to respond, but Spencer's phone started ringing. "Oh, sorry."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone; he noticed Hotch's name flashing across the screen and looked up at Harper, "It's my boss, I have to take this."

Harper nodded and grabbed her cup as Spencer slid out of his chair and took a few steps away from their table before answering his phone.

"Hotch?"

"Reid, someone leaked the profile to the media, and details of the crime scene." Hotch's guff voice said from the other side of his line. "I need everyone in so we can regroup and find out who is leaking information. If the Unsub finds out we're on to him, he may move on or stop completely."

Spencer drew a deep breath and looked over his shoulder to see Harper sipping on her tea and looking out the window, legs curled up under her looking particularly comfortable.

"Reid?"

Spencer let out a sigh, "Yeah, I'm on my way."

He hung up his phone and deposited it back into his pocket. He walked back over to the table and Harper looked up at him. "That was my work; they need me to come in. I have to go, I'm sorry."

"Oh. Okay." Harper said with a smile.

Spencer lent down and picked up his bag and grabbed his coffee cup from the table before looking to her again, "D-Do you want to meet up again sometime? I didn't mean for this to be cut so short."

Harper smiled at him, "Sure."

Spencer smiled and waved to her; she waved back and he turned, leaving down one of the aisles. Harper watched him go, before looking down into her cup with a soft smile on her lips.

Later that evening Harper returned to her apartment, tossing her keys and her bag next to the door. She lent down to her bag and pulled out a small laptop, then proceeded to walk over to the couch. She set the computer down on the table and grabbed the remote, flipping on the TV.

She kicked her feet up onto the table and ran a hand through her hair as she searched the channels. A news story that was flashing across the screen caught her attention. Above the caption of a Serial Killer in Virginia, a news reporter was speaking to the camera. Harper turned the volume up.

"My sources say that this killer has changed his way of murder each time he kills, but somehow, the FBI still think this may be the same killer."

After spending the afternoon with someone as articulate as Spencer, the woman on the newscast sounded like a nimrod in comparison. Harper smiled and started to move up from the couch to grab a drink from her kitchen.

"This last woman was killed by stabbing, multiple times, 47 to be exact." The woman's voice trailed to Harper as she grabbed a bottle of water from her fridge. Her eyebrows rose at what she heard, and she slowly moved back to her place on the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

"The victim, a young blonde woman, was murdered brutally in her own home. She was stabbed several times in the stomach and face. The FBI says that the murderer in question is a male, between the ages of 30 and 40, who loves scary things, and is trying to recreate something he has seen or read. So if you know any horror movie fans, be alert!"

Harper took a deep breath as she hung on every word of the newscast. She felt a rush of exhilaration as the news reporter ended her warning and they moved on to the next topic. She bit her lip and glanced down at her laptop on the table. She reached out and picked it up, opening the clamshell design.


	3. Chapter 3

"To conceal anything from those to whom I am attached is not in my nature. I can never close my lips where I have opened my heart." – Charles Dickens

Harper sat on the edge of a fountain in the nearby park and watched people as they walked by, skirting around her ever since the media told everyone to watch out for people who like horror movies. Not that she walked around wearing a Friday the Thirteenth shirt or anything, but her alternative appearance of colored hair and tattoos still gave people bad impressions.

She checked her phone, seeing that it was about 7:30 and the sun was well past down. Harper had spent most of the morning walking around and running errands for the apartment, but she came to sit at the park around 6pm; she sat for an hour and a half, watching people and watching the sun go down.

Harper took a deep breath and stood up, sliding her phone into her pocket and grabbing the bags she bought at the store and started her walk home. Her apartment was around a fifteen minute walk from the park; one she made at least two times a week. She enjoyed how quiet and peaceful the park is, and when The Book Nook was too crowded, or the weather was nice, she would often come down here to work.

It was a quiet walk, and it seemed to take much longer than usual, but perhaps it was all in her head. Finally she made it to her apartment building; she walked into the building and up several flights of stairs until she reached her floor. She fumbled in her backpack until she pulled out her keys, and flipped through her keyring until she found the door key, which she jammed into the deadbolt and then the door lock.

Harper swung the door open and set her backpack down on the floor. She moved in and kicked the door closed with her foot, making her way to the living room to deposit the bags onto the couch. She reached down and started going through the bags, looking for some of the dish soap she bought earlier so she could get a load of dishes started. She grabbed the soap and stood up, she turned to make her way from the kitchen, and was blind sighted with a crack to the side of the head.

Harper tumbled to the ground, smashing into the table and rolling onto the floor. She landed on her back, grunting as she hit on the way down. She turned and looked up at the man who towered over her menacingly.

The adrenaline was rushing through her veins, she felt hear heart pounding, and heard the blood rush through her ears. The man raised his hand, brandishing a blade, and she screamed; Harper rolled under the table as the blade came down, missing her by only a second.

She crawled out from the other side of the table, and turned to stand up. The man reached over the table to get to her and she shoved upwards on the table, slamming it into him as she jumped up. She ran around the couch, avoiding him as she tried to make it to the door. He composed himself before she could reach and he jumped in front of the door.

Harper took ragged breaths as her mind raced, trying to process everything that was happening. The man in front of her was very large, and she had no hope of overpowering him. Her eyes darted over to the bookshelf against the wall. The man lurched at her and she stepped over to the book shelf and pulled in one hard yank, kicking the wall for leverage and the shelf topped over onto him.

Harper jumped over the shelf and tried to make a break for the door, when a hand reached out and grabbed her ankle. She screamed as she fell to the floor again, throwing her arms out to break her fall.

She was tugged backwards as the man climbed out from under the shelf, pulling him towards her simultaneously. She reached out and was able to grab her bag from the spot by the door. She ripped open a zipper and the man grabbed her bag and threw it across the room. The bag crunched against the wall and her cell phone tumbled out onto the floor.

She rolled over onto her back and tried to hit the man, kicking her legs and trying to push him way as he straddled her hips. She screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling her throat scratch and burn. The man grabbed her arms and pushed them against the floor. He knelt down onto her arms, pinning them down and Harper screamed at the pain.

The man grabbed her hand and splayed it open; he brought his knife down and sliced straight across her palm. Harper flinched and screamed again, as he moved to do the same to her other hand.

He pushed down on the skin, milking blood from the wounds, and then clamped her hands into fists. Harper whined at the pain and she could feel tears stinging her eyes.

The man then stood up, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her to her feet as if she didn't weigh an ounce. Harper cried and struggled against him as he pulled her over to the wall where the book shelf was just moments before. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them together; then placed his hands over hers as a guide to separate her fingers so her thumbs were pressed together forming a ninety degree angle from her forefinger, and all four of her fingers were pressed together in a line. He pressed her bloody hands firmly against the wall, putting enough pressure on them for Harper to cry out and her knees to feel weak. If he wasn't holding her up, she probably would have collapsed.

He held her hands to the wall for several moments before he pulled her hands away, leaving the print of a W, and then he threw her to the floor. Harper collapsed into tears, closing her fists together to hide the wounds from the stinging air.

She heard his heavy footsteps and she took a deep breath and look up at him, he was stalking towards the door. He turned looking at her one last time, before moving out of the door, closing it behind him.

Harper felt the tears running down her cheeks as he left her alone in her home. She was shaking, and gasping to catch her breath. Her eyes cast down to her cell phone lying on the floor, and there was a sudden pounding on her door that made her jump. She felt a rush of fear at the idea he came back.

The doorknob turned and opened and her neighbor walked through.

"Harper? I heard screaming?" The woman stopped dead, and her eyes widened as she took in the scene. "Oh my God!"

She looked down at Harper, and then saw the cell phone on the floor. The neighbor ran over and picked up the cellphone, quickly hitting the emergency call button.

Harper took deep breaths as she looked up at the woman she barely spoke to, but still came to check on her when she heard the struggle. She listened to the woman rattle off the details to the police before hanging up the phone.

She knelt down next to Harper and tried to make eye contact. "Harper? It's going to be okay. I called the police. You're going to be okay…"

Harper took a deep breath as she heard the sirens in the distance.

Spencer was in his apartment, settled down on his couch, pouring over some of the lists Garcia pulled in hopes something would stand out for him. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of ways for her to narrow down the list so far, so it was vast, and he was planning to be up all night trying to go through some of the backgrounds she printed for him.

He grabbed his mug of coffee and took a long drink, feeding off the caffeine as if it were lifeblood. He shut one file and was reaching for the next when his cell rang. He glanced around the table before finding it under a discarded set of files. Garcia's name ran across the screen; he accepted the call and brought it to his ear.

"Garcia?"

"Hey," Penelope's voice came out form the speaker. "The Unsub just attacked a woman in her apartment a few miles from the police station."

Reid started shuffling the files and stood up, grabbing his mug . "I'm on my way, what's the address?"

"Actually, no," Penelope cut him off, "He didn't kill the woman."

"Wait," Spencer said, eyebrows crinkling as he stopped in his tracks, "He left her alive?"

"That's what we are trying to figure out." Penelope said, "Morgan has her for questioning, but she seems to be shaken up. Emily and Rossi are heading to the crime scene; Hotch wants you in to help with the profile."

"I'm on my way." Spencer said, dropping his coffee mug into his kitchen before heading to the door. He hung up the phone, sliding it into his pocket and he grabbed his keys and jacket. He went out the door and made his way down to the bureau.

It didn't take him long to get there, and he quickly made his way down to the interview room. Hotch and JJ were standing on the other side of a glass window, no doubt watching the body language of the victim Morgan had in there.

"What happened?" Spencer asked his boss.

Hotch looked up to him and turned to give him attention. "Police received a call from the neighbor, heard a lot of screaming and a struggle. She went to go see what was happening, she found the girl, her palms were cut open and there were defensive marks. There were clear signs of a struggle and the W was printed on the wall."

Spencer nodded, "What has Morgan been able to get out of the victim?"

Hotch nodded towards the window, "Not much, she seems still shaken up and hasn't given us much. I'm thinking JJ might get a better response from her. Males may be making her nervous."

Spencer stepped up and looked in the window; and his heart dropped into his stomach like a boulder. Harper's colored hair was whipped all over her head, and there were bruises all over her arms. There was medical tape and gauze wrapped around her hands, and a bruise on the side of her face near her temple where she was clearly struck; those were just the wounds he could see. Spencer's eyebrows crinkled as he noticed her behavior.

Harper was looking all around the room, not even close to settling on Derek, like she had a hard time focusing on anything. Her hands were shaking and her shoulders were trembling. Her chest was heaving as if she was having trouble breathing.

Derek moved and asked another question. When she didn't answer, he prompted her, "Harper?"

Harper's eyes darted over to the wall Derek was near. "I-I don't know. I mean, I think he was… I-I think he was trying to grab me but I-I just, I can't; I think-"

Her entire body language, and the way she stumbled over her words, splaying them out faster than he did when he was ranting was making red flags fly in Spencer's head, and he remembered the words she said to him when he met her.

"She's not just nervous, she's having an anxiety attack." Spencer jumped and rushed towards the door.

"Reid!" Hotch yelled after him, but Spencer was already opening the door to the room.

Spencer rushed inside and Derek looked up at him, eyes wide as if he was taken off guard, "Reid, you got something?"

Spencer noticed how Harper froze up when Derek called attention to him, and her eyes searched around before landing on his face. "Spencer?" her voice cracked out in a winded whisper.

Spencer ignored Derek and rushed over, kneeling down beside Harper, whose eyes started darting around the room near where he was knelt. He reached out for her arm that was sitting on the table and she jumped.

"It's okay, it's me." Spencer said softly, trying to calm her. Harper seemed to settle down slightly and Spencer reached out slowly, placing his hand over hers and tracing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand in a comforting motion. Harper's eyes darted up to meet his as she took another shaking breath, "I need you to tell me where you keep your medication."

Harper took a sharp breath, and swallowed a lump in her throat before answering quietly, "In my bag."

Spencer looked up at the window, sending a message to his team on the other side.

JJ looked up at Hotch, "There was a backpack that the Unsub threw across the room submitted for prints, I'll go check to see if there were any prescriptions in there." She said. Hotch nodded and JJ turned, walking down the hall.

Spencer then looked over at Morgan, who was watching him handle Harper with eyebrows raised. "You aren't going to get anything out of her while she's like this." Spencer said, and Morgan tilted his head down and raised his hands as if to say, 'she's all yours', before moving over to the door and heading out of the room.

Spencer turned his attention back to Harper and searched her face, "Do you want to take a walk?" he asked her, thinking that it may help her calm down if she had a change of scenery.

Harper started nodding profusely. "Yeah, sure, okay, yeah…" she said in quick succession.

Spencer nodded and got to his feet. He made a move to pull his hand away when Harper flipped her hand over and laced her fingers with his. She stood slowly up and turned to face him, but kept her eyes trained to the ground. Spencer noticed how she was still taking deep breaths.

He swallowed and guided her over to the door. She stuck close by him and continued to look at the floor as they passed by Hotch, who shot Spencer a look. Spencer gave him a pleading apologetic look before moving down the hall.

Spencer walked with her through the BAU; she kept close to his side and didn't look around much, but the actions seemed to help her calm down a bit. Harper was squeezing his hand, and he noticed when she would get extra anxious because she would tighten her grip, which would cause Spencer to wince, but he didn't say anything.

He walked with Harper past the bull pen, "My desk is in there with the rest of the team's." He narrated, and would spout off facts as they walked past certain rooms. She would nod slightly and they would move on.

Spencer started moving her down the hall towards the break room. He was starting to wonder how it was taking JJ so long to find Harper's anxiety meds when she appeared at the end of the hall and waved to him. He smiled and nodded to her before turning to Harper.

"Why don't you go in and get something to drink? My teammate just showed up with your medication, I'm going to go grab it."

Harper nodded, "Alright." She said quietly, and looked down the hall towards the break room.

Spencer released her hand and touched her shoulder before moving down the hall towards JJ. Harper walked into the break room and looked around at all the features of the room. Someone had taken the time to label everything, so she was able to find a cabinet that said 'Cups' rather quickly. She actually did want a drink of something, and water sounded really good right now.

She opened the cabinet and looked through all the cups and mugs. Many of them were labeled also, and she felt her gut twist at the idea of making someone upset that she used their things. She felt her hands start to twitch again as her eyes raced around the cabinet or the room for a paper cup. When she didn't find one, she chewed on her lips and clamped her hands together, ready to give up.

That's when her eyes caught a BAU mug on the top shelf. She climbed up onto the counter and grabbed the mug with Spencer's label on it. She slid off the counter and walked over to the water cooler, filling up the cup. When she watched the water fill up, she noticed several coffee stain rings in the cup that let her know it was well-used. She smiled quietly to herself and walked over to the table, sitting down and bringing the cool ceramic to her lips to take a drink.

Spencer walked in a few moments later. He took a few steps towards her, while reading the label on the prescription bottle in his hands. He looked up to talk to her before stopping, brows furrowed as he caught sight of his cup pressed to her lips. "Is that my mug?"

Harper pulled the cup from her mouth and looked up at him as if she did something wrong, "It was the only name I recognized, I'm sorry…"

Spencer's brows went up and he pulled his lips into his mouth to chew on. He smiled slightly and shook his head. "N-no, you can use it."

Harper nodded and set the cup down on the table. Spencer walked over and sat in the chair next to her. He handed her the bottle, which she took and quickly unscrewed the lid, shaking out a pill and taking it.

"Thanks, Spencer." she said softly. Spencer smiled softly at her, even though she still wasn't looking at him. "So, you work with the FBI?"

Spencer nodded, "Yes, with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We're working on the case of the man who attacked you."

Harper's hands tightened around his cup. "I-I still can't-"

"It's okay." Spencer said quickly, "I talked to JJ and my Unit Chief. They postponed your interview for two days. We are going to work the crime scene and work with what we have there, and then we are going to talk to you again after it's all processed. Do you think you'll be able to talk by then?"

Harper nodded, "Yes."

Spencer watched her, sighing and reached over to squeeze her hand, "Harper, it's really important you tell us everything you remember as soon as possible. You're the only person who has seen this guy and you might be the key to catching him."

Harper felt her gut twist and chewed on her lips. She closed her fists, the tips of her fingers brushing over the gauze wrapped around her palms. Spencer glanced down at her hands at the motion; he licked his lips and then chewed on them. "Your apartment is being processed as a crime scene, and being as how the Unsub left you alive, you may be of some importance to him."

She took a shaky breath and nodded at his words. "We are going to set you up in a safe house with supervision, in case he tries to come back for you; or if you remember something and are ready to talk before your interview."

Harper glanced nervously over at Spencer, finally making eye contact with him since they were in the interview room. "Someone's going to be watching me?"

Spencer nodded, "I talked to my Unit Chief to see if I could do it."

Harper felt the twist in her stomach lighten up and a smile tugged at her lips. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Spencer. "You're going to stay with me?"

Spencer looked at her with a small smile and nodded, "And there will be guards outside at all times. I'll have to go to the crime scene tomorrow, but someone will always be there."

Harper frowned, "Please don't call my home that…" she said quietly.

Spencer chewed his lip, picking up that it was uncomfortable for her to think of the place she was supposed to be safe as a crime scene. He saw it often with people who were attacked in their homes. Often, they would never return to live there and want to get rid of it as soon as possible.

"JJ was able to get some of the items of your bag released, but most of it has to stay in evidence." Spencer said and reached into his back pocket, pulling out her cell phone and the copy of Fight Club she bought at the store the other day.

Harper nodded, understanding that it made sense to keep her stuff. "Thank you," she said, reaching over to grab her items.

"Are you ready to go now?" he asked her. She nodded and stood from the chair, bringing the mug over to the sink to rinse out. Spencer stood and walked over to the door, waiting for Harper to walk over, and he led her out.

The drive to the safe house wasn't as long as Harper had expected. She figured that they would take her across town, far away from where she was attacked. But instead, she was taken only a few miles away from the BAU; only a few neighborhoods over from where she lived.

Along the way, Spencer rattled off that the geological profile he was creating for the Unsub was still underway, and all of the crime scenes were scattered across the city showed that there was no specified zone that was safer than any others. So, they wanted to keep her close to the BAU where it was easy for them to get to in case of an emergency.

They set her up in a small two bedroom home, set back further away from the street with lots of trees in the yard. It was pretty compact, quite like her apartment, with a living room, one bathroom, a small kitchen with a table for eating, and two bedrooms down a short hall.

Harper posted up in the bigger bedroom, straight down the hall from the door to the house. There were generic clothes in various sizes in the dresser, and she was able to shower and throw on some sweats and a tee shirt that generally fit. Spencer said he would try to free some of her clothes and other necessities from her home tomorrow. Harper smiled and nodded and turned into the bedroom.

Spencer was in the kitchen, making his third cup of coffee since they arrived, and trying to round up some snacks to offer to Harper to see if she was ready to eat yet. He had heard her soft voice travelling down the hall to him, so he knew she was still awake.

He made his way down the hall and leaned against the doorframe to her room. Harper was sitting up in the bed, completely absorbed in reading her copy of Fight Club. His eyes wandered over her, and his ears picked up on what she was saying. Harper was reading aloud, quietly to herself.

He watched her quietly from the door way for several minutes, noticing as she slouched against the pillows she had propped up, like her body was tired but her mind was just not ready to give up yet. Even though she was slouched against her bed, she still sat cross-legged, a quirk Spencer was starting to notice she did often, and made him smile. He let out a sigh of relaxation.

Harper caught the sound and looked up at him, then smiled. Spencer was taken aback that she noticed him, as he didn't mean to interrupt her. But now that he did, he noticed there was something nagging at him ever since he took her for a walk around the BAU, and he finally had brought it to himself to say it.

"Harper?" he asked.

Harper smiled at him as he moved in to the room further, "Yeah, Spence?"

Spencer hesitated at the nickname. Harper seemed to notice because she gave him a questioning look. Spencer just brushed it off and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked down and chewed on his lip, now that he had gone through the motions he was a bit nervous to actually spit it out.

"I'm really glad you're alright." He said, looking up at her.

Harper felt a warm feeling fill her, and her stomach twisted.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am that we're here, and I am not looking at pictures of your body instead." He explained. Harper bit her lip and felt the warm rush to her face at his terrible phrasing. Spencer seemed to realize what he said because he also flushed after noticing her blush. "I-I am really glad you're okay. I don't know why the Unsub left you alive, but I am more than thankful that he did."

Harper's brows crinkled together and she smiled at the awkward words coming from his mouth. She bit her lip and tried not to laugh at the way he was trying to tell her this. Spencer chewed his lips again, and looked down, making a yeesh face. He glanced up at her, "I'm just happy you aren't dead right now."

She smiled softly, "Me too." She said quietly and then added words that crossed through Spencer's head already, "I'm not done seeing where this goes."

Spencer smiled at her, "Are you hungry? I can grab some food out of the kitchen. There isn't much there, but I'll try and grab some more tomorrow."

Harper smiled and nodded, "That sounds good right now, thank you."

Spencer nodded and stood up, moving to the door, "Do you have any allergies I should be aware of?"

She shook her head with a smile on her face over his cute concern. "No."

Spencer nodded and walked out of the room, "I'll be back in a few."

Harper watched him so, a soft smile playing her lips and she looked back down at her book, continuing to read.

Spencer made his way back into the kitchen, thinking about their conversation. He really was happy that she was alive with minimal damage. He felt he was just getting to know her, and that she had to potential to become a close friend of his, the way their chemistry reacted together. He would probably have felt genuine distress if she had been murdered.

He rummaged through the cabinets to pull out some various snacks; gathering together a few choices on texture and taste. He enjoyed the way she didn't make him feel awkward, or strange, for rambling or being too smart or socially awkward. She always just sat quietly, waiting for him to complete his thoughts, and looked genuinely interested in listening to him; unlike the others on his team, who started to drone off when he started to explain statistics or facts, or interrupted him when he started to say something ridiculous.

He was, like she said, curious to see where her friendship would go if it were to progress. She was an interesting person, and he really wanted to get to know her further. He barely had any time to sit down with her and get to know her as a person. He was relieved when Hotch gave him permission to be the one to stay with her, especially after the situation that happened at the interrogation room earlier.

"How did you know she has anxiety?" Hotch asked as he walked up to him and JJ in the hallway outside the break room, along with Morgan.

"And how did she know your name, pretty boy?" Morgan asked, "You got a secret girlfriend or something?"

Spencer swallowed, "W-what? No. I met her at a café I go to, and we had drinks the other day."

"Drinks?" Morgan asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Coffee and tea!" Spencer shouted, throwing his arms open, feeling exasperated at the way Derek's mind always went to the gutter.

"Enough." Hotch commanded, holding his hand up to Derek, "You know this girl. Do you think you can get her to talk to you?"

"Yeah, Reid," JJ said quietly, "You were able to calm her down pretty quick, even without the medication. She feels comfortable with you."

Spencer sighed and glanced back at the break room, chewing on his lips. He looked up at his team, "I don't think she is going to talk to anyone tonight."

Hotch sighed, "We are going to put her in a safe house. We can check out the crime scene tonight and tomorrow, and re-visit her. It should give her time to cool off and get a good night rest."

"A safe house?" Spencer asked, eyebrows crinkling, "Will she be getting protective detail?"

Hotch nodded, "I've arranged for guards and an agent to be with her at all times."

"Can I stay with her?" Spencer asked. This caused everyone to pause and look at him. Hotch's eyebrows raised in an unspoken question and Spencer scrambled for his words, "I knew about her anxiety; how many of our agents are trained to deal with an anxiety attack? Plus, you guys said it, she's comfortable with me. What if she can talk to me and tell me about the Unsub?"

Hotch studied Reid for several minutes and then sighed, "Alright, but I'll need you at the crime scene tomorrow."

Reid nodded, "Thank you."

It was actually a bit of a surprise that Hotch let him stay with her, as he really was useful when it came to this case; but as JJ pointed out, he may be their only chance at her opening up to them about her attack.

It didn't take Spencer too long before he had a suitable selection of snacks and was able to make his way back to the kitchen. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he could no longer hear her reading.

He crept quietly to the door and peered through the doorway. Harper had passed out on her bed, still sitting against the pillows and legs crossed, and book in her hands, still open and laid flat across her stomach. She had clearly passed out from sheer exhaustion while still trying to read. Spencer could not help the bright smile that spread across his face at the cute scene.

He walked over quietly, setting snacks down on the bedside table. He slowly grabbed the book from her hands and pulled it softly from her grasp. Then he grabbed the comforter from the end of the bed and pulled it up around HARPER, hugging it around her shoulders. He set the book down on the bedside table next to the snacks and moved back to the door. He glanced back at her once more time before turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

Harper stirred in her bed, opening her eyes and seeing absolutely nothing. She gasped and shot up in bed, her heart pounding as she looked around the dark room, waiting for her eyes to adjust while she saw devilish shadows running across the dark. She spread her hands frantically around the soft surface of the bed, searching for someone, anyone.

Her hands touched nothing and she started taking heavy breaths as the feeling of being completely alone set in. "Spencer!" she cried out frantically, her voice shaking and tears coming to her eyes.

"Spencer!" she shouted again, this time louder. One of her hands clutched the sheets in a panic while the other reached out shakily trying to find a lamp or her cell phone, anything that would shed some light. She knocked something off the table and it crashed on the floor, making her yelp.

Spencer burst through the door, throwing the light on and holding a gun out in front of him. His eyes scanned the room frantically, looking for the danger. His eyes finally settled on Harper, who had her knees pulled up to her chest and her face buried in it, looking as if she was about to cry. It only took a second for him to realize she was having another attack.

He walked over quickly, setting his gun down on the bedside table and sitting on the bed. Harper jumped and her head shot up when the bed dipped in, letting out small scream.

"It's okay!" Spencer said, holding his hands up, and then moving over to grab her hand and rub her back.

"You were gone!" Harper shouted at him, tears that sprang in her eyes making Spencer feel guilty. Spencer opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words. "I woke up, and you were gone, and I was alone and I couldn't see-"

Harper was starting to ramble quickly, like she did earlier in the interrogation room when she was coming on with an attack. "I couldn't see anything, Spencer, I thought you were gone…"

"I'm right here, Harper." He said softly, rubbing her back. He never had someone with anxiety who had just gotten attacked staying with him before. He didn't think anything of it, but now that he was in this position, he realized that maybe isolating her with the lights off probably wasn't the best; and if it was him and he woke up alone in the dark he would start to freak out too.

He felt another wave of guilt, knowing the exact feeling, because he had the same issues after he came back from being held captive by Tobias Hinkle; waking up in the dark with no one, and feeling he was still stuck in the shed. "I'm sorry, Harper, I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have left a door open or light on or something… Do you want your medication?"

Harper took a deep breath and shook her head, "No. No. No, I don't need it. No. Yes. Yes, I probably do. Yes please."

Spencer nodded and turned, opening the drawer of the nightstand, and noticing she had knocked over a bowl of assorted snack foods onto the floor, causing a big mess. He didn't even notice that he walked over it, crushing some of it into the carpet. He chewed his lips and grabbed the glass of water from the table and handed them both to her.

She unscrewed the cap and downed another pill. Spencer glanced at the time on the clock and stored it in his memory. He memorized the label on her anxiety meds and knew she could only have two a day, so he would have to make sure if she had another attack that he could find another way to calm her out of it. He made a mental note to research more on it later.

He took the bottle and glass from her and set them back down on the table. He watched as she took long deep breaths, trying to stabilize. He reached out and touched her hand again before moving to clean up the mess on the floor.

Harper looked over at him, noticing that he was in a large sheer tee shirt and tartan pajama pants. His hair was crazy tousled and he had thrown his glasses on. Harper chewed on her lips and glanced at the ground, he was clearly sleeping when she woke up. She looked up at him again, heart twisting and warming again at just how adorable and comfortable he looked, and she felt bad for inconveniencing him.

"I'm really sorry, Spence." She said quietly.

Spencer glanced up at her and paused, clearly not expecting her to be apologizing to him for anything. "What for?"

"I, just, everything?" she said, and Spencer could read the nervousness in her voice, "I am being really high maintenance, and I woke you up, and I'm just putting you out and all you are trying to do is help me."

Spencer laughed, which took her aback. "You're being high maintenance? Harper, you were attacked by a murderer, if I didn't think you needed someone to take care of you while you readjusted then I wouldn't be here."

Harper chewed on her lip and looked away. She felt a twist in her gut, and felt bad about everything. She had met this guy who was cute, and smart, and charming, and somehow magically didn't find anything wrong with her; and on the third day she was around him she went full on anxiety monster. This was not the person she ever wanted people meeting, and yet here she was, ruining any chance of a normal friendship with him.

Spencer seemed to sense her discomfort, because he leaned over and grabbed her hand again. "Don't feel bad for having a problem." He said, and Harper looked up at him, "You aren't an inconvenience."

Harper let out a deep sigh, and quirked her mouth to the side. "You're going to start looking at me weird now. They always do."

"What?" he asked, entirely confused, "How could I look at you any different? It's a disorder, Harper, it's not your fault."

She shook her head and looked away, not really believing him. She knew how crazy she could be when she had an attack, and it was not something that people would voluntarily submit themselves to.

Spencer could feel her reservations in what he was saying to her, and he really wished she would just believe him. So he took a deep breath and let her in on the secret. "My mom has schizophrenia."

Harper looked up at him, eyebrow quirked in a question. Spencer chewed his lip and continued, "I took care of her as long as I could, until I had to put her somewhere that they could help her more than I could."

Harper looked at him feeling nervous and Spencer realized he said one of those things that came out wrong, "Not that I think you need to be put away somewhere. I'm saying that because my mom wasn't an inconvenience for me." He looked at the nervousness in her eyes as she was afraid of him judging her, and let out a short sigh, "I probably have it too… I've had some things that happened to me that could be signs."

Harper's face changed from fear to concern, and Spencer felt relieved. Not that she was concerned for him, but that he was able to share something with her that put them back on equal ground. He felt better knowing her could tell her and not be judged; which, he realized, was what she needed too. He smiled at her softly and squeezed her hand before pulling his away. "We all have our problems, Harper. They don't have to drive people away."

Harper searched his eyes, and couldn't find anything that made her feel like he changed the way he saw her. In fact, it seemed like he was closer to her now than he was before, more relaxed now that they knew each other's secrets. She smiled at him softly, and took a deep breath.

She felt the meds starting to kick in, which was a surprise, as they usually took about an hour, so it was either working quicker because she was amped up, or because she was already tired. She shifted in the bed, making her way to lie down; and Spencer got up, grabbing his gun off the table and making a move for the door.

"Spencer?" Harper called, and he turned to look at her. "Can you stay with me?"

Spencer felt that weird warm rush again and he suddenly felt really nervous. But the way she looked up at him, eyes pleading, and after just telling her that he understood the things she was going through, he couldn't find himself saying no. He nodded and set his gun back on the table. He switched off the light, leaving the door open this time, and moved over to the bed, sitting down awkwardly on it and leaning back against the still propped up pillows, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Harper seemed to settle in, rolling onto her stomach and turning her face away from him. She took a deep breath and relaxed. Spencer could feel her trying to release the tension from her body, so he shifted and tried to make himself comfortable. He stiffened up in a jolt when he felt her hand press against his thigh. He looked down at her, eyes still closed and the tension melted from her body. It was as if she needed that physical contact so she could make sure he wouldn't disappear while she was asleep.

The notion made him relax, and he let out a long breath, trying to release the tension from his own body, and made himself comfortable so he could fall asleep. He leaned his head back against the pillows, and closed his eyes.


End file.
